


Balanced on a Knife's Edge

by RingingSilence



Series: Princess Bride AU [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Buttercup!Jon, Dread Pirate Roberts!Martin, M/M, Martin being clever, No Spoilers for TMA, Simon Being Sassy, Some Spoilers for The Princess Bride, The Princess Bride AU, Vizzini!Simon, because no one stopped me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RingingSilence/pseuds/RingingSilence
Summary: A test of wit to claim Lord Magnus' adopted heir.A chance for revenge against his best friend's killer.A reunion that took a little longer than expected.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Princess Bride AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027389
Comments: 10
Kudos: 114





	Balanced on a Knife's Edge

“How about a test of wit?” Simon Fairchild gestured to the three ropes dangling in front of them. “We each will try to convince the heir not to cut the rope we are climbing. He knows I know how to find him because I kidnapped him in the first place. He knows you know how to find him thanks to your dogged and frankly impressive pursuit of us thus far. Really he should probably cut both of them, but I doubt he’ll have enough time.”

“So whoever reaches the top gets the heir?” The Dread Pirate Roberts squinted up at the distant shadow peeking over the edge of the cliff above them. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Simon chuckled and grabbed a rope. “May the best man win!”

The cliff was not perfectly straight: while there were parts where the rope hung close enough to the face for Roberts to stabilize himself most of the time he was left dangling in the open air, spinning over the vast expanse of dark water lapping at the rocks below. Simon didn’t seem to have any trouble with the climb, humming away as he easily kept just ahead of Roberts. Roberts determinedly kept his eyes up, watching the lip get closer and closer. With all of his attention on the ascent, on the rope, it didn’t take long for him to notice the vibrations under his hands.

“Mr. Sims, wait!”

Simon laughed cheerily. “Well, it looks like yours is the first move.”

“Mr. Sims, stop and think about what you’re doing for a moment,” Roberts called up. “Am I really the one you should be afraid of?”

“You did chase us all the way from Florin,” Simon said brightly. He stopped climbing, wrapping an arm around the rope to rest his chin on his palm. 

“…Alright, that’s true—“

“And you bested my companions, probably killed them.”

“I did not—“

“And you are the infamous Dread Pirate Roberts,” Simon finished. “Honestly, you might be the most dangerous man I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. If I were the heir I’d choose to deal with me over you, too.”

“You, shut up,” Roberts snapped. “Mr. Sims, please look at me.”

The vibrations ceased. A moment later the heir scowled over the edge. 

Roberts inched a little further up the rope, just past Simon. “You know that Simon is going to kill you. He said so himself.”

“True,” Simon hummed. 

Resisting the urge to scowl at him, Roberts pulled himself just a little higher. “You know I followed you from Florin, but you still don’t know why.”

“I’d assume to hold him ransom,” Simon said. 

Roberts let one hand fall from the rope, sweeping it out dramatically. “If you are really okay with letting him win and never finding out why, then go on: cut the rope…but if you don’t and let me reach the top I swear I’ll answer any questions you have.”

The heir’s eyes flicked from Roberts to Simon and back. Slowly, he started to speak. “…I…”

“You would trust the word of the Dread Pirate Roberts, notorious plunderer of the high seas?” Simon laughed. “You really must not care for your life! I can’t imagine why Lord Magnus chose you to inherit—“ 

In one swift motion Roberts drew his sword, still keen after his fight with Melanie, and chopped through Simon’s rope. The man let out a little whoop of surprise and fell, leaving nothing but the frayed remains of his cord and an echoing splash behind. Roberts didn’t look back, focused on Jon. He looked a little paler, clutching the dagger tightly, but didn’t return to cutting Roberts’ line so the pirate resumed climbing. The moment he pulled himself up onto the cliff and stood he found the little blade pointed directly at his heart. The heir’s hands shook but the only clear emotion on his face was absolute fury. “Why did you come after me?”

~*~

The Dread Pirate Roberts was not a small man. As he stood on the cliff’s edge, hands up, Jon wondered at how someone who could so easily overpower him could look so unthreatening.

“To return you to Florrin, unharmed,” the man said, voice soft. Then, with a little bit of an edge: “I’d imagine you want to return to the throne you so willingly gave up everything to be named heir to.”

“There was nothing willing about it,” Jon snapped before he could stop himself.

Roberts smiled. It was not a kind smile. “Oh? Did you hesitate then when the king came to you? Maybe spared a moment for nostalgia’s sake before leaving your simpler, harder life behind?”

“If I’d said no, I would have lost my grandmother’s farm,” Jon retorted. Another wave of anger caused his hands to shake harder. “There was only me, and the debt kept piling up and if I’d said no the last five years would have been for _nothing_.” He tried to meet Roberts’ eyes but nausea overcame him whenever he made it past his chin. “It was hard, but we had each other and we were happy. Do you even remember him? A farm boy, like me, just trying to earn enough to chase the king’s debt collectors off. He was all I had left, but I was too scared to leave the farm and go with him on that voyage so I wasn’t there when _you killed him_!” He took a step forward, blinking back the tears he’d held at bay since the day the messenger came. “You killed him, and I never had the courage to tell him, never had the chance to say that I…well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Lord Magnus promised to protect the farm if I agreed to be named his heir. His sacrifice won’t be wasted, and while killing you won’t bring him back…” He finally managed to look up, to meet the eyes behind the mask. “…At least I can put his memory to rest.”

It was odd, looking Martin’s killer in the eye. He’d expected to see cold eyes, cruel eyes, the eyes of someone unrepentant for the things they’d done. He had not expected to see eyes that looked so soft, so sad, so familiar that it locked him into place. He couldn’t move as Roberts took one small step forward, then one more until the quivering tip of the dagger rested right over his heart. Jon could only stare, paralyzed, as Roberts gave him the smallest of smiles. 

“As you wish,” he said softly.

Jon did not move the dagger. Instead he let go with one hand, let it drift up, let it brush over Roberts’ cheek until he had the thin black mask between his fingers and he started to pull it away.

The baying of a hunting hound echoed sharply across the plains behind him and he jumped. He twisted towards the sound, elbow jabbing into Roberts’ stomach and the man lost his balance and stumbled backward. For one agonizing moment he managed to catch himself, arms pinwheeling, before tumbling over the edge of the cliff. 

Jon dropped the dagger and dove, his scarred fingers closing in a fistful of black fabric and he shouted as the sudden weight wrenched his shoulder but he didn’t let go. Instead he scrabbled at the rock beside himself until he found a decent grip, gritted his teeth, and pulled with all of his meager might. Slowly, painstakingly, Martin managed to pull himself back up onto the cliff and Jon didn’t give him a chance to do more than get to his knees before he threw his arms around him. Martin grunted and his arms closed around Jon just as tightly, surrounding him in black fabric and the salty tang of sea water and _Martin_ , solid and alive and real.

“I’m so sorry,” he gasped into Martin’s shoulder. “I thought you were dead. If I’d known I—“

“It’s alright, Jon,” Martin mumbled into his hair, arms cinching tight enough to hurt but Jon didn’t mind. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“Martin, I—“

The howling rose again and Jon jerked away, searching the rocky fields for the approaching hunting party. He jumped when Martin’s warm hand closed around his, pulling him to his feet. 

“Come on.” Martin’s face was set with a grim determination Jon hadn’t seen him wear before, and the hand not holding his rested on the pommel of his sword. “We can lose them in the Fire Swamp.”

Jon nodded and they set off, hurrying through wind-whipped junipers and brambles towards the distant smell of sulfur.

**Author's Note:**

> [An idea that's been hanging around for a few days](https://ringingsilent.tumblr.com/post/630082896495017984/okay-hear-me-out-princess-bridetma-au-tim-as) and no one stopped me ;w; Please, someone, run away with this concept because I want to read it but have too many other projects!
> 
> Happy belated JMart anniversary <3


End file.
